Overwhelming Firepower-Chapter 247: The Third Vision

There were several empty rooms on the second floor of the Tavern, and despite the rundown appearance outside, the inside was rather sturdy-looking and seemed to have been renovated several times.

The wooden floorboards barely creaked under their steps, thick enough that even the noise from below was dulled to a distant murmur of laughter and clinking mugs.

Lucen noticed that there were a few chalk marks on the door, meaning those rooms were occupied.

The group then chose the four rooms that were right next to each other. Lucen entered his room, and he was going to do some planning for tomorrow, but for some reason, he felt very sleepy.

’This is weird... Did I drink too much?’ Lucen felt his mind becoming foggy. ’Was I poisoned?... No, if I were poisoned, Robert would have noticed it immediately.’

Lucen then remembered that Robert was distracted because of the dwarf’s rune engraving. ’Damn, I might actually been poisoned.’

Lucen clenched his jaw and forced himself upright. His first instinct was to use his aura to strengthen himself and circulate his mana to try to push out whatever poison was in his body.

’Why isn’t my poison resistance working? It’s already in intermediate rank, so I should be able to resist this.’

As Lucen’s focus was slowly fading, his sight was becoming darker, and his knees were weak, he gnashed his teeth. As his consciousness was slowly weakening, he had a thought.

’If poison resistance isn’t doing anything, maybe it’s something else. A spell? No, if there was mana or aura involved, Sir Thalos would have noticed it already.’

Lucen staggered forward and braced himself against the bed; it was at that moment that he felt the ring on his finger burning.

’Is this because of you?’ Lucen asked in his mind, and as if responding, the ring became a little hotter.

’If you’re going to show me another cutscene, then just wait for me to go to sleep like always. Why sca-’

Lucen wasn’t able to finish that thought as his consciousness faded and he fainted on the bed.

***

Lucen opened his eyes, and like the other visions, he started in a black area. It was like a loading screen finishing up and then showing a scene like you were there.

’Yup, another cutscene. I wonder why you suddenly decided to show me something after all this time.’

Lucen looked around the unfamiliar area. Stone walls surrounded him, cracked and scorched. The ceiling above had collapsed in places, allowing ash to drift down like gray snow. The smell of blood was faint, old, and everywhere.

This was once a grand hall, but now it was broken and barely looked like it once was. Lucen then saw a knight wearing armor with rune engravings, shackled.

The knight had the ring on his finger, which meant this was the experience of this knight.

His armor was shattered beyond recognition, plates dented and split, straps torn or burned away. No sigil remained on it, only scars from countless battles. His sword lay several steps away, snapped clean in half.

The man was breathing heavily. He had many wounds on his body, and he had internal injuries as well, but despite all that, his back was straight. His eyes conveyed his unyielding will; his body might be broken, but not his spirit.

The sound of footsteps could be heard as gigures emerged from the shadows, tall, cloaked, faces hidden behind masks carved with mocking smiles.

"You have lost," One of the cloaked figures spoke. "Your armies are gone, your allies defeated. Only you remain."

The knight did not even lift his head as he answered them with silence.

"Swear loyalty," another continued, circling him. "Renounce your oaths. Live."

The man slowly raised his head. Blood ran down his brow, dripping onto the stone. His eyes never wavering looked at the cloaked figures.

"I would rather die than live a life of a coward, of a dishonorable swine."

The cloaked figures stopped moving. For a moment, the ruined hall was silent save for the faint drip of blood onto stone.

One of them let out a low laugh. "You cling to your oaths, your honor, when none of those you swore oaths to live? When your body can no longer uphold your so-called honor?"

A boot slammed into the knight’s ribs. Despite only watching from the side, Lucen felt like he could feel the impact of the strike himself.

The knight’s body jolted, breath tearing from his lungs, yet he did not cry out. The chains rattled violently, metal biting deeper into torn flesh.

"Your honor did not save your men," another voice said coldly. "It did not save your kingdom. And it will not save you."

The knight coughed, blood splattering against the floor. Slowly, painfully, he pushed himself more upright, chains pulling taut.

"I am a knight of this kingdom. My body may break, my men may have fallen, the king I serve may be gone, the kingdom I protected may no longer exist, but my honor will never be tarnished!"

The words echoed through the ruined hall, not with volume, but with certainty. For a brief moment, the cloaked figures did not move.

Then one of them tilted its masked head. "A kingdom that no longer exists. A king long dead. An oath without purpose. What’s the point of that?"

Another stepped forward, voice dripping with mockery. "Honor is only worth something when there is someone left to witness it."

The knight lifted his gaze. Even now, shackled and bleeding, his eyes were steady. It even unnerved the cloaked figures. It felt like they were the ones in chains, not him.

"Honor does not exist to be witnessed," he said. "It exists to be kept. No matter the circumstances, a knight must uphold chivalry, and with that, his honor and dignity will never be gone."

Silence fell again. The pressure in the hall thickened, not aura, not mana, but something heavier, something beyond physical form.

"This has become boring. If you will not bend the knee, if you will not join us no matter what, then you can join your men in the afterlife." The cloaked figures took out their swords. Their auras flared as killing intent filled the air.

The knight’s breathing grew shallow. Blood dripped steadily from his wounds, pooling beneath him. His body was failing; anyone could see that. Yet his spine remained straight, his head did not bow.

As if gaining power from his words, the knight was able to push up his broken body. The cloaked figures were startled by the action. As the chains binding the knight were shaking, the ring on the knight’s hand started to glow.

The shackles that bound the knight broke, and he looked at the stunned figure before him as he placed his hand on his chest as he spoke.

"I will stand firm on my beliefs," the knight said, voice barely above a whisper now, yet impossibly clear. "I will uphold my honor, unbroken."

The words left the knight’s lips, and the glow of the ring steadied, no longer flaring, no longer raging, but burning with a calm, unwavering light.

The chains lay shattered at his feet. For a moment, no one moved. The cloaked figures stared at him as if seeing something they did not understand.

"This changes nothing," one of them said sharply. "What can you do by yourself? What can a single knight do that entire armies were unable to accomplish?"

The knight shook his head, and his lips curved ever so slightly upward as he replied. "There’s nothing more I can do. But I will not die shackled and on the ground. I will die with my honor as a knight intact."

His voice wasn’t loud, but it felt like the entire hall trembled from his words. He took a step forward.

His leg buckled, bone grinding audibly, yet he did not fall. He planted his foot and stood anyway, blood dripping freely from his armor and staining the stone beneath him.

He took one step, then another. Each movement was labored. Each breath sounded like it might be his last.

Lucen could feel it; this body had already gone far beyond what it should have been able to endure. The knight stopped a few steps away from the cloaked figures.

"Come then, you cowardly lot, have at you."

The cloaked figures moved at last. Three swords struck at once, their steel pierced his flesh.

One blade drove through his side. Another cut deep across his shoulder. The third sank into his abdomen.

The knight’s body jerked, but he did not retreat; he did not fall. He then reached out, his hand closed around the hilt of his broken sword.

Even snapped in half, even useless as a weapon, he raised it and placed it against his chest, over his heart.

Yet even as his strength left him, he did not fall; his back remained straight. Blood soaked into the stone, spreading outward like a dark mirror.

The cloaked figures stepped back as they watched the knight still standing before them. The light in the knight’s eyes dimmed, his breath disappeared, but he remained looking at them as if ready to attack at any time.

Lucen was amazed by the sight; he felt something surging within him. ’As expected, with these cutscene-like visions. It’s like watching the climax of an anime.’

As Lucen wanted to see if there was more to this scene, he suddenly heard his name being called.

"Lucen"

It was a familiar voice, and it was slowly getting louder.

"Lucen!" It was at that moment that the vision dissolved, and everything turned into darkness.